


Making a Difference

by thedragonsarecats



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Character Study, Gen, happy birthday Sabrina, overuse of commas lmao, this is basically one run on sentence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:57:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10327274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedragonsarecats/pseuds/thedragonsarecats
Summary: Ethan Nakamura was not meant to be soft.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Greenninjagal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenninjagal/gifts).



Ethan Nakamura was not meant to be soft.

He was meant to be sharp; sharp like the cut of words that left his tongue and as deadly as the reprimanding slap that follows. 

Ethan has to be sharp, because he was a mistake, a disgrace, and a disappointment. He has to sharp so when his father strikes him across the cheek, he can take it because he knows that the recoil, the revenge, the balancing of the scales will destroy his idiot Father and the pain he bestowed on Ethan.

Because Ethan Nakamura is the son of a goddess and he is bigger and brighter and sharper than his father and family can ever hope to be-- even he is a mistake, a disgrace, a disappointment because his Father knocked up his Mom and she dumped him right back on his doorstep. 

He ruined his Father, disgraced his family just by being born. But Ethan Nakamura is bigger and better than they will ever be because he is his Mother's son, it is her cold blood running through his veins. 

When he's eleven he leaves, wiping his father's dark blood off a kitchen knife with a rag and his mother's voice whispering in his ear. He's balanced the scales, and now it's time to move on.

He's welcomed into Camp Half-Blood with open arms, and for a moment, one gloriously shinning moment, he thinks that the scales might stay tipped in his favor.

But as always, they spill out of his favor and Ethan is shoved into the Hermes cabin with barely a patch of wood to call his own. He is furious, because he is his Mother's son and he deserves-- his Mother deserves-- a cabin. They both deserve better than to be lumped in a wooden cabin that stinks of sweat and broken dreams.

The scales stay that way for a long time, and Ethan, more beaten down and broken than he ever was with his Father, has grown bitter. Because he is Ethan Nakamura, and he was supposed to be bigger and brighter than his family ever was but now... Now he's just as low as they were even if it is his Mother's blood that flows through his veins.

And yet, there's a glimpse of hope in Luke Castellan, a prodigy swordsman and a son of Hermes with a bitterness to the gods that rivals Ethan's own. So when Luke reaches out a hand, offers Ethan a chance to be more than the spot on the floor, he takes it.

After all, a chance for him is a chance for his Mother. A chance for a throne and a chance for a cabin and a chance for everything that's ever been denied, and Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson have ever taken for granted. 

Ethan's never been soft, never got soft, but taking Luke's offer has somehow sharpened the edges that Camp Half-Blood dulled, somehow sharpened the pride in himself and his Mom. Ethan is sharp, and for the first time in a long while, he'll be able to fix the scales that have been skewed for so long.

His mom offers a guarantee. 

It was an easy decision, and Ethan grits through the pain as his Mother tears out the eye. He struggles to control his breathing even after Nemesis is long gone, leaving a leather eyepatch in her place.

Ethan Nakamura is his Mother's son, it is her blood that runs cold from his empty eye socket. And because he is is Mother's son he pulls himself together. He cleans and bandages the wound, chest heaving at the sting of the antiseptic. 

He keeps going because his Mother promised, that in exchange for his eye and his pain, he could make a difference. He could fix the scales. 

He's able to wear the eyepatch left for him after over two weeks of headaches and Tylenol. Satisfaction stirs in his stomach, and he can't help but smile for the first time in years.

Of course, it's quickly wiped off when Luke, half driven to insanity, tosses him into the arena without a second thought. Ethan takes note of his haggard appearance and gray in his hair, and thinks that his Mother is being quite harsh; what little pity he'd mustered is quickly buried underneath the rage, however, as he's ushered out to face Poseidon's son underneath Luke's crazed gaze and cold smile.

He returns. Even after Percy Jackson broke him out, promising with annoying earnest that he will be welcomed back to camp. Please, as if he'd ever be content with that pathetic patch of floor. 

Not when the scales are still tipped unfairly in Percy's, Annabeth's, Silena's, Beckendorf's, and the favor of any other demigod who's parent is recognized and honored. Any demigod who's parent has a throne.

It's because of this, because they would never understand, that he goes back to Luke. 

And yeah, maybe he is scared shitless. Maybe it's because he revived Kronos with a couple of stuttered words. Because even if Luke had been losing his grip on sanity his cold blue eyes have never been as harsh or crazed as Kronos's gold. 

Or maybe it's because he can feel it stirring in his gut, because what he's done has made a difference. What he's done will get his Mother and throne and a cabin. What Ethan's done... somehow it'll make things right.

(Although he isn't adverse to killing, never has been because death is needed and necessary, something bitter grasps his heart as his knife drives itself into Annabeth Chase.)

Apparently making things right means a suicide strike, because Ethan mindlessly charges at Kronos and drives his sword into his collar bone.

He doesn't know why he did it, spurred by the Satyr's spell. It resonated with something in him, Ethan's own internal scales, and fixed something that had been skewered far too long. 

The shattered bronze digs a chink into his armor, and he wheezes as he pressed his hands to his stomach. He's dying; can feel it deep in his bones as he wheezes out one final wish. A final prayer to Percy Jackson. One final chance to make his Mother proud.

The ground swallows him, and he falls bleeding into the sky above New York City. Body rushing closer and closer towards the concrete with each passing second.

But it's alright, Ethan knows. Because he is and will always be his Mother's son, even in death, he is bigger and brighter than his Father ever hoped to be. 

He made a difference.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Sabrina! I hope you enjoyed me getting Overemotional about Ethan.


End file.
